Machiavellian Martyr
by SnazzyMeatball
Summary: Being reborn in the body of Harry Potter, female or not, wasn't her ideal plan for afterlife. Magic, on the other hand was something a Machiavellian megalomaniac like herself could appreciate. Wizarding world better watch out, because whether her plan or not - Harriet James Potter doesn't lose, and fuck anyone who say's otherwise. Semi-SI!Reborn!OC!Fem!Harry Potter
1. Godzilla in the Gorilla suit

**Warnings:** Language, violence and megalomania.

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me along with some theories, some occasional sprinkles of modern knowledge and entertainment, i.e. songs, references and theories.

This work is purely fiction. None of the characters or events are real, the plot and its original characters, along with any kind of work (Art work – unless mentioned) belongs to me. Any attempts at illegal publication for profit, plagiarism or attempts of it _will_ be dealt accordingly. This work is only posted on ffnet. (Unless mentioned _specifically _by me.)

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Points to note (A/N) – This story will mostly focus on the rise of the protagonist. Harriet, or the OC occupying her, will be mainly focused on becoming powerful and learning more about the wizarding world. Keep in mind that as a twenty something old in a body of a child, will not be mostly focused on romance – It's basically like a self-insert, because to be honest if I were to be reborn in Harry potter, my focus would be on the magic. Plot be damned.

There _will_ be some romance later on, like full raging romance, but at the beginning it will mostly be high school crushes. My attempts will mostly be focused on how to keep everyone in character and be realistic. True to my personality, the OC! Fem! Harry will be a megalomaniac who is kind of like Tom riddle (Not Voldemort) but instead has a lust for power. Not power in society, but magical power.

See, this OC is _not_ going to be a good person. She is greedy, power thirsty, manipulative, cold, callous, sly and full of debauchery. She will _always_ put herself first, hence the use of the ironic name – Machiavellian Martyr.

So basically this story will follow the tale of a power-thirsty OC who dabbles in all kind of magic, goes from weak to strong, does a bit of face slapping, fights death and its ugly serpentine form and finds romance. Maybe a bit of angst and teenage drama. Kind of like mind fucking the old mentality of the wizarding world with dominating female power, if you wish.

Oh, and not to forget - a strong attitude.

Another thing to add, my style keeps changing from POV's to drabble and then dialogue. It's kind of messy, and im working on it, so yeah. Sorry for the upcoming headaches. But, let's not be hasty, eh? Reviews from all and the mythical ghost readers are appreciated. Let's dive into it. (For some fucking reason mysapce isnt working, so the weird dots. Don't worry Im working on that too.

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Being reborn in the body of Harry Potter, female or not, wasn't her ideal plan for afterlife. Magic, on the other hand was something a Machiavellian megalomaniac like herself could appreciate. Wizarding world better watch out, because whether her plan or not - Harriet James Potter doesn't lose, and fuck anyone who say's otherwise.

Semi-SI!Reborn!OC!Fem!Harry Potter

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Prologue: Godzilla in the gorilla suit.

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_There are three kinds of intelligence: one kind understands things for itself, the other appreciates what others can understand, the third understands neither for itself nor through others. This first kind is excellent, the second good, and the third kind useless._

_ \- _Niccolo Machiavelli.

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"Sometimes, I just look deep into the mirror on my bathroom wall, trying to see who really I am. When I look deep into my eyes, it stares back at me_ – **the hunger for power** **and dominance**._"

_"It's not the fact that I have darker aspects that scare me, no. It's the fact that I long to never forget these emotions that scare me. I don't ever wanna be something other than a megalomaniac, the thought of forgiving myself scares me. It isn't narcissism, not one bit and that is what scares me the most."_

_"I am -" _

_"-!"_

_"-! Get off that bloody laptop, stop writing those stories of yours and _help_ your -, will you?"_

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I was exactly three and a half month's old when I realized who exactly I am. The name 'Potter' or the obvious magic around me didn't reveal that truth, it was something inside me that did. It pulsed under my skin like a warm current of pure electricity – I would know, I died of its overdose. It thrummed inside of me like a living blanket of power – constant and thick. Pulsing and warm.

It was magic, that made me realize what situation I was in.

One moment baby Harriet James Belladonna Lily Potter was drooling all over her favorite blue blanket, eyes sharp and wise then the next moment the same prodigious, sly, aloof baby was laughing like a witch she was. Mother Potter was gushing at the first laugh of her powerful, aloof daughter and Daddy Potter indulged in the whimsy, cutsey, childish naïveté of her way too serious daughter and tickled her.

Baby Potter, or more like Adult-Baby Potter, on the other hand was trying not to burst with excitement. Her head going on thousand miles a minute, thinking of ways she could learn all that _powerful_, foreign¸ _magical_ spells she knew that existed. The dark, the light, the grey – she was ready to learn them all. The power that could, no, _would_ be hers made her baby mind explode with glee as sparkles burst from her fingers.

That was till reality sucker punched me and then proceeded to bitch slap me.

_HateHateHate_ and _AngerAngerAnger_ flooded her system – her magic lashing, thick and ominous – bursting bulbs, cracking mirrors, scaring the shit out of her parents. She was going to be the sacrificing goat of the wizarding world, her parents would be dead and she would be manipulated by an old coot. A megalomaniac would kill her parents and proceed to soul fuck her.

If there was something I hated more than being weak, it was being used. I _loathed_ the thought of bending herself for anyone – I hated it. I am massive control freak and proud to admit it too.

So little baby got thinking, desperate to do _something_. She might be slow, but not stupid – there was no way she could stop the arrival of Voldemort. She was a _baby _who had already raised dark flags for showing unnatural amount of intelligence and magic, showing her memories would be _suicide_ and hell as if she was going to let _that_ happen.

She loved the potter's, really. But it was her or them, and she loved herself too much to let go. It wasn't that she wouldn't try to stop their death, oh no, in fact the next left months she practiced with her magic so much, she almost died by raining glass. But if it didn't work, she would always come first.

Yeah, she knew something wasn't right with her head, but that's fine. She would never want to be anyone but herself.

Meanwhile, adult-baby potter became more demanding than ever – she demanded hugs, kisses and cuddles like nobody's business. Papa James, Momma Lily and the rest graciously gave into the demands of the bossy, aloof toddler. Sirius even called her Miss. Potter Lordess, which she liked. Remus chuckled tiredly and gave in. Peter? Peter was her ultimate favorite – she would coo nonsense at him, fawn in his presence and _positively light up with malice_ every time he winced.

Good, he should be uncomfortable. Maybe she should accidently kill him? No that would change the plot. That will lead her to lose her knowledge of future and that was positively _not happening_. Her knowledge will have her dominating the fields, because just barley winning is overrated.

Oh, and there was the time she looked in the mirror. Two slanted, flinty eyes – one viridian green, another smoky grey. Her little tuffs curly mass of inky black. Promptly, she burst out laughing. Even in another form, her Hetrochromia never left her. Along with the freckles, now if only she had her tattoos and some bloody whiskey. Oh wait, current age: eighteen months in the world of living. Too bad, so sad. Hell, for a while she even entertained the idea of losing her knowledge. For a moment.

Then, on one accursed 31'st of July, _he_ came.

It had been a lax day – Lily reading her the history of gremlins, when James screamed and Lily ran. For a moment, her baby instincts won over her, and she wailed crying like a babe she should have been, sobbing her little heart out at the iconic speech of Lily. At that moment, there was just a baby, a baby who knew something was wrong and her mum was in danger.

Then her eyes met _redredred_ eyes.

The wailing stopped, the horror filled eyes melted into a flinty look of cold apathy, eyes of a jury – an executioner contemplating worth of a lowly prisoner. _'This is the way I _will_ end up if I forsake whatever left of my humanity_.' Was what went through my head. Not rage, not awe, not fury. Little Adult me stared at him like a bug under a microscope.

His face, if you could call it that, was frozen – still. His eyes intense and slightly wide, as if in a trance. His face? Face was courted into an ugly expression of fury, hatred, fear and disgustingly enough – a bit of lust and awe. Which I could understand was for my magic, unless the serpentine monstrosity was a pedophile, in which case – fuck the plot. This fucker is going_ down_.

He- no, _It_ snapped out of it, face a snarl of fury. It hissed venomously, fangs bared and poised to kill, "_Harriet Potter… such a potent magic…. Yes, I cannot allow you to live. You are too much of a liability." _Its curses were soft, whispery yet deadly. Raising its gaunt hand, it caressed my face gently – like an artist marveling a lovely shade of paint. She had promptly raised a chubby hand and swatted the offending limb away – harsh and harsher eyes focused.

"_Yes… too bad, child." _ A demonic smile slipped on its face, insanity and power lust misting the red eyes. Wand ready, it prepared the curse, as I prepared to see the love lily had for me.

A green light, a high pitched wail of death, a flash and _pain_.

Her forehead had positively _burned_ as the intruder tried to leach into her magic core. Harriet rose, war cry rang in _her_ domain as the leech was promptly pushed out – the force so violent, and she felt as if her head might explode. A wail left her mouth, her form tumbled down, crawling towards her dead mother. '_Rest in peace, Lily.'_

Yes, she choose herself. But sometimes, _sometimes_ she just wished, wished that she was normal. That she could feel the horror, the guilt – but no, there was only grim acceptance and respect for the woman who would love a life so much. She gave into her body's demand and crawled into her mother – the first one from both lives.

Maybe because of her status as a former orphan, and current orphan might explain her behavior. But really, it was just how she was – cruel, selfish, flinty, power hungry, self-centered and sometimes, sometimes it was a bit lonely. But she was used to that loneliness and pain was a reminder of what waited those without power. It was you, or them. And she would always, _always_ be herself. And here she was surrounded by sharks and wolves.

And here she was Godzilla in the suit of a gorilla.

_"And then I would realize, that it wasn't me staring into the eyes of my darkness."_

_"It was my darkness staring at the light wisps around it, wondering the allure of the light. As you see, light shows you – it makes you glow. But Dark? Dark hides you. Dark soothes you."_

_"So you see, the rules of the game of power is simple. No matter how dark you are – never give up the allure of whatever wisps you have. If you do, the game isn't of power anymore, as you are no longer a competitor. You are no longer alive."_

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A/N – Sorry, had a bit of problems in editing, also this is the shortest chapter in this book (as it is the insight of what's about to come.) So as you may have realized, this story is going to be _heavy_. It plays with morals and moral high ground itself – this is the story of a game and all you have to do is maintain both aspects – no matter how slight.

Honestly, something tells me this is going to get a hell complicated, but I just _had_ to write it down. It just won't go away. So, yeah. Thoughts?

**Question:** Who do you think goes good with the oc? Which male/female would be a good romantic interest? So far I have considered Tom, Draco, Lucius, Snape (like by a very little margin) Pansy, Hermione, and maybe, maybe George.

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_Whoso__ever desires constant success must change his conduct with the times._

\- Niccolo Machiavelli.


	2. Old Coots and Groping Witches

Chapter 1: Old coots and Groping Witches

A/N: Motherfucker with limp dicks for fingers. Twenty favorites twentieths follows and five comments. I am beat - seriously, when I wrote this book (Or really, the short ass monologue of a prologue) I didn't expect such wonderful reviews in such a short amount of time. Im Shooketh.

So I had been thinking that as a control freaky, megalomaniac power freak person, Harriet won't really go well with someone alike her. Like, I - in real life - am a very proud person who doesn't like people head butting her, but at the same time challenges attract me.

So I thought of Luna, like what if she knew the truth and then a slow burning, possessive romance? Or maybe Draco (You'll see soon enough what im talking about.) But then there is also the fact that I see Harriet as a pansexual person who has various lovers, kind of like a bunch if that makes sense.

Anyway, thank you for the support, lets stumble right in!

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_One who deceives will always find those who allow themselves to be deceived. Niccolo Machiavelli._

\- Niccolo Machiavelli

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_"The void had encased me before I could understand what happened. I had lost the game, and I was dead – failure stung desperation and sloth found sleuth."_

_"I know that I wasn't a gracious loser – no. I was vain, desperate and sly. I wouldn't accept this as it did, so I did the unthinkable, the unimaginable. I was a cheater who cheated relentlessly and cheat I did."_

_"I didn't cheat life, not really. I stole the best imaginable boon for a person like me. I stole the boon of **Knowledge**_ _and life had to bend down to me. I wasn't lucky, or choose. I was who I am – a cheater. And this cheater was going to cheat the whole way. Why? Because winning fairly was overrated anyway."_

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The rancid smell of strong smoke and putrid liquor wafted up in the air, my hands furiously working in attempts to clean the dishes and het this over with. Veron Dursley, was a pig in the skin of a pig-man. His wobbly stance collapsed under him, the skinny figure of Petunia Dursley underneath his colossal frame. I smacked my lips together, in a very desperate attempt of not laughing.

Life, at the age of eleven-twenty something, was very, _very_ entertaining - In a shitty manner.

Toddlerdom was even worse, to be honest. I couldn't move, couldn't read, couldn't think, couldn't do _anything_ without the help of others – and then there was the occasional black outs via takeover by baby mind. Yeah, that shit sucked a fat one.

Currently, I was witnessing the aftermath of the arrival of the proof of the fact, that magical world, indeed existed. The letter to Hogwarts came, Veron had flipped and on turn my magic had flipped at _him_. Yes, I really don't like a lard of human fat who will probably be dead due to his obesity yelling obscenities at me. Veron, God damn his soul, ended up with a big, and I mean _big_ \- purple spot on his face that was swollen up.

I _cannot_ wait to learn magic.

All those spells, those charms, those curses – the things I could do, the things I _will_ do when I get them. A whole new world of different culture and power so vast, yet so damned ignorant of what gift they carry. If I had that in my real world, I would've become the Bill Gates of wizarding World in a moment. The fact was, all of them just couldn't _see_ the unique gift magic was.

I wasn't a person who cannot understand the value of such a rare gift. I was slow, not stupid.

Honestly, living with the dursely's wasn't the worst. Yes, I had to do chores and yes I was yelled at – but at the end of the day it was still better than being a street rat. Petunia and I even had a complex, grudging understanding between us – Veron could be shitty, if he wanted to. Being a prodigy at school gave me many options, and options did I take.

A catty smile light up on my thin lips. Yes, exploit I did. Finding instructors wasn't hard, and fighting was a part of my blood – this life and before. Boxing was an excellent way to blow off some steam. It helped me maintain the wisps of light. Yes I wanted power but I also wanted a _life_.

I mean, hello? So yeah, unimaginable power, here. Then what? If I went the typical anti-social way I wouldn't have anyone to flaunt that power to. What's the point of power, luxury and money if you can't use it? And that's where the players lost the game. They forgot their humanity and their ties – boderlining was cool, but completely immersing in something was dangerous and stupid.

And I didn't _do_ stupid.

Tugging at the small piece of curly hair in front of me, I waited patiently for the friendly giant to appear. If it wasn't for my edict memory I couldn't have possibly remembered all the things in cannon, so thanks to that. The storm rattled at the windows – harsh and cruel as if knowing what was about to happen. And then, I heard a knock.

A big, wide smirk light up my face as Veron pointed the gun at the giant Hagrid, gatekeeper of Hogwarts. Schooling my face into an impasse mask of indifference, I met the eyes of the warm man, voice blasé. "Yeah, I am Harriet. Why?" he visibly brightened, eyes misting with unshed tears. "Oh, Harry! Ye' were a babe tis small 'when I first saw yah. Carried you in me own hands."

I gave him a small, confused smile. "Sorry, but who are you?" he offered me a cake, and a sausage as he launched into the tale of the Boy- no wait, the _girl_ who lived. The scapegoat of a pathetic world of pathetic people with a magnificent gift. For a moment I wanted to choke the life out of him, but then I remembered – this man is innocent.

Too bad I wasn't.

As I slipped into sleep, the familiar soft face wafted in my mind – the soft eyes, the warm smile the fiery hair. "My baby is so beautiful… Darling, mommy loves you _sooo_ much. Please be happy, darling. Don't cry darling, mommy is just going to get daddy." Lily Evan Potter floated in my mind, the only person who had ever stepped in my domain.

The day after that accursed night, a new discovery was made – I had been given a boon. The thick protective magic of lily had warped up around my core and mind – an indestructible dome of thick steel – refusing entry to anyone. No one could ever enter my min or magic, Lily made sure of that. I woke up gasping and withering – agony burning my mind.

Lily and James Potter.

Yes I had chosen myself, and yes now no one could enter my mind. But some small part of my mind – the light, mourned their loss. Yes, I gave them up but I wished I hadn't. I didn't try to forget, didn't try to move on – I reveled in it. It reminded me just what happened to those who were powerless. I couldn't protect them, I was too weak and they paid the price for me.

I couldn't bring back, but I could remember. Never will I ever let this happen again – my future lover/lovers and loved ones will always be protected and safe, never to face the harsh reality of pain. The pain stung my chest and I marveled in it, embracing it with open arms. Yes, I would remember this.

The grim thoughts eventually faded away, as I walked along Hagrid. "Now, 'Arry. I know you're new to this, but just remember, yah are a hero to these people. Just stay close, ha?" his accented gruff voice reprimanded me, snapping me out of my thoughts of megalomania. An excited grin broke loose as I stared at the pub to the entrance of heaven.

Eyes wandered to floating tables, mugs flying –_ holy Christ, its real, this is real – _when a shocked voice exclaimed my name in disbelieving awe. My eyes met that of the barkeeper – Tom. Flashing him a small smile I greeted him, "Hello, sir." He immediately dropped down, cradling my hand as if it was fine china, blubbering in broken speech.

Hagrid and I looked at each other, he shrugged and we were suddenly surrounded by people proclaiming their love for me. A grin crawled into my face. While I wasn't really all for fame, I could get used to this. Being feared was great and all, but being looked up to? That shit was utopia. Yes, I could get used to this.

I let out my bangs from the pins, the curly wild mop covering the side of my face, the rest of the thick hair in a small baby ponytail that was barley long enough to be tied. Glasses perched low on my nose, I sucked in a deep breath as the entrance to Diagon alley opened up.

This was… _Exhilarating_.

For the first time, I truly understood that I was in a different world – the glaring difference apparent. Witches and wizards everywhere in their horrendously fashioned robes, magic thick and potent in the air, wands casting spells, exotic animals and creatures and items all around me. For a moment I blanked out, slipping into insanity – _Motherfucker, it wasn't a fling. This is real, magic is **REAL**, im not hallucinating, and oh Jesus _ – then Hagrid broke me out of it.

"'Arry? Yah alright?" his concerned eyes worried about me was promptly ignored as I twirled around, doing a one eighty of the world I was in. Fuck the plot, fuck the wizards, and fuck Voldemort. This was real and this was going to be her's. She was going to learn _magic_, for fucks sake! How many people were reborn in the god damned Harry Potter!? This was her chance – and she would use it wisely.

"Hagrid?" I called out, voice soft and trembling.

"What is it? Are yah alright Laddie?" his response was immediate as he steered me into Gringotts, my eyes soaking in the vision, the goblins – _Holy shit! Goblins, Im seeing a real life _Goblin! – And the wizards there. "Im going to learn magic." I finally breathed out to him, voice trembling. Hagrid seemed shocked for a moment, then a soft smile appeared on his face. "Yah, you are."

We stopped in front of a goblin, my mind astray as we sat into a cart. Wait, hold on, what? "Hold on, 'Arry!" a wail of surprise burst my lips as suddenly I flying in the air a hundred miles per second. I barely managed to hang onto my glasses and life, a whoop of joy left my lips as adrenaline pumped in to my blood. Holy shit, this is amazing! I wonder if this is how flying will feel.

We stopped in front of a vault, which when opened up made my mouth drop in shock. This was all metal, if I melt them and sell them for money… hell, Im pretty sure I could compete with some top shots. Having a breathy chuckle, I set on filling two-three pouches of _gold_ and _silver_ coins. And bronze too. When we left, Hagrid looked down to the overfilled pouches on my hip and shook his head.

I think I like Hagrid.

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When I went inside Flourish and Blotts, I took one look at all the books around me and for a moment I felt like I was having a heart attack. The books, the _books!_ Oh sweet fucker rat with limp dicks for fingers, _the books!_

A wide, face cracking smile was on my face as I ran into the arms of salvation – _Power, power, power! It's all mine! Mine! Hahahaha! These books, this knowledge, im the one who is going to learn them – motherfucker im going to become a witch, magic, magic! The power, the lust, oh **yes**! _– The voices faded away, leaving a slow chant of 'Power, power, power.' Ringing.

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk; A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot; Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling; A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch; One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore; Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander; The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble._

_ The theory of magic and its components by Murine Mathew; The subtlety of potions and pollux by Hershel Knurly; Seventy-three friendly Hexes, Make bully's Cry! By Darth V. Umber; Strategies and mind games by L. Lawlite; Arthimacy for beginners by Ceil Phantomhive; Exotic and Enigmatic: The wonders of magical creatures by Hanje Zoe; Divination 99 – Tea leaves by Levi R. Ackerman. _

"There you- 'Arry! Those books aren't in the list I gave ya." Hagrid's voice scared me, I wobbled, my hands almost let go of the book I was holding – _Runelore for beginners by Elizabeth Milford. _I looked at him as if he grew two heads, "Why would buy _just_ what is on the list? There's no way there isn't enough money and _sweet lord_, have you seen the books? _There everywhere!_ I can't just-just leave them here!" my cry ended up in a high pitched wail.

"Calm down, Laddie! Yah can take afterwards, o-oh fine, whatever yah want." He grumbled as my lips wobbled, eyes turning glassy full on injured puppy look. "Merlin, I guess I bettah' go and change ta' thing…" he muttered, but I was too busy rubbing my grubby hands on the spine of the book – _Theory of Souls and Soul Magic by Kaneki Ken._

My magical trolley – was stacked up into a high pile by the time I was finally done. When we went to pay for them, the lady at the counter looked at my pile, then at me and finally at Hagrid. "Ravenclaw, then?" she said with a wry smirk as we paid for the books – fifty galleons and ten Knuts. Jesus, were they robbing a bank? Then I looked at the pile and winced.

Maybe I got a bit carried away? Eh, whatever. I still haven't taken any dark arts book.

My mind went back to what the lady had said. "So, Ravenclaw huh?" I asked Hagrid as we made our way to Ollivander's. My heart was definitely _not_ thumping, neither was my magic churning. Nope, nada, zilch. "Yea. Ya might be a Ravenclaw, 'Arry. Me myself was a Gryffindor, though…" my mind stopped for a moment.

Indeed, there was _no_ way I could be a Gryffindor – the only houses I could go into was Ravenclaw.

And slytherin.

A cold breath left my lips, wondering what will happen if I went into slytherin. That would be… bad. Very, _very_ bad. The old coot would stick to me like a leech and the _scandal_ and dear lord, my thirst for dark arts would never be satisfied. I will not, _cannot_ go into slytherin. That would way too damaging. Numbly I stepped into the shop, forcing my mind to relax.

This isn't the time to freak out. I will need back up plan… _if_ that ever happens. Yes, I couldn't go into war unprotected – they would win the battle, but I would win the war. Still, I _didn't_ want to lose the battle. I wanted to win everything, even if I had to cheat. "Welcome, Harriet James Belladonna Lily Potter…" a wispy voice fluttered as my muscles unwillingly tensed up.

I relaxed myself, ace turning aloof. "Hello, sir." I cannot give away _anything_. Lily's barrier might protect my head, but my behavior is all my doing. "Dominant hand, Potter." He demanded and I had to stop myself from bristling in annoyance. _What's up with snooty old coots? Are they in fashion or something?_ A sickening smile was sent his way, fully fake.

"Im ambidextrous." Was my reply, and it was true – I was both handed. Measuring tapes rolled itself on my body, up, down, between and everywhere. I seriously don't see why the Wight of my ass cheek is necessary for my wand, but whatever. He took my right hand and handed me a wand. "Holy wood!-" before he could even say anything, the wand burst in flames and was snatched out of my hands.

"Phone!-" A whole carton of wands were thrown out of their shelf.

"Holly Woo!-" The curtains set ablaze a blue fire. "Told ya, Ravenclaw…" Hagrid's mumble was unheard as Ollivander slowly, slowly became more animated.

"Maybe the other one?" he muttered, and suddenly his eyes widened as he hobbled back into the shop. "Maybe? How curious, how curious…" a small eerie smile coated his wrinkled face as he handed me a wand. Before he could even say anything, the wand creaked and all the boxes around were thrown around, a _recoil_ of magic could be seen as the wand violently rejected me.

"What! That can't-unless… unless…" his misty eyes narrowed into my frame, and once again I froze. It seemed he was staring _into_ my eyes; my darkness. "You… yes, there's no another person who… yes. Yes." His face was grave as he slowly removed another wand. A magical jolt shocked me out of my system. Automatically, my left hand rose and the wand touched me.

A blue-black flame twisted around me, encasing me in its depth. My hetrochromic eyes – one green and one blue (Originally grey, but darkened into a deep blue) fluttered shut. Pure, unfiltered _power_ filtered my veins – constant, thrumming and finally _complete_. A sigh left my lips as my eyes opened to meet narrowed misty ones.

_Oh shit…._

"Merlin's beard… what a paradox you are, Miss Potter." His whispery voice was a mere hush now, an icy undertone evident. This old coot is dangerous – to me and my future, I decided at that moment. As if reading my thoughts – which, mind you, was not possible – his face fell slack, that animated tone tinged with just a tad of venom.

"Walnut wood, 10 ½ inches, dragon heart string, very, very flexible. The wand is an unyielding one – only allowing the wizard it's meant for, even its _twin_ wand's owner cannot use the wand, in spite of being a very powerful witch. You, Miss Potter will be a very, very powerful witch." Somehow when he said that, instead of preening I broke into cold sweat. I knew the moment I heard 'walnut wood' where this was going.

This wand was the twin to another wand. Specifically, the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange.

I had the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange. I was like- _hell no to the fucking no_. Pointedly paying the man eighteen gallons, Hagrid and I left the shop – he was back to ranting about the plot, specifically the whole 'Kill-the-baby-Because-Im-A-Insecure-Old-abomination.' The barrier around my mind was painfully jolted, the exact moment Hagrid said _that_ fuck's name.

_Redredred _eyes flashed in my brain – a place that should've been my domain, a hot breath ghosted on my neck, back arched and my eyes rolled back for a moment. My magic hummed, loud and positively burning. "'ARRY! Laddie, 'are ye alright?" I nodded, still bewildered by what the _fuck_ just happened. "Well then, let's not tarry nay longer. We have tah' get yah home as well." I snorted loudly at that part. "Yeah, sure." Hagrid gave me an understanding smile. Yes, I think I like this man, too bad I was decades younger and not into giants.

Meh.

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I walked into Madam Malkin's absent mindedly telling her that yes, Hogwarts's brat here a yes, newbie here. Standing into an open jumping jack position, I tried not to wonder why exactly the 'firmness' of my ass was necessary for a skirt. Are they scared I'd burst into squats or something? At least I wear boxers. "You're going to Hogwarts as well?"

A posh, snobby voice called out. I wanted to turn and se who this was, but couldn't and then I knew exactly who it was when he charged into a triad of how 'His father ought to sue these imbecile's for not letting first years bring broomsticks.' "So, what are you? Don't tell me you're a muggle born." His voice was scornful at that.

"Half-blood."

He humped as if doing me a great favor by still talking to me. Honestly? I wished he didn't – I needed to think how to not act like a young Tom Riddle. Or god forbid, _that_ woman. Yeah, that's not happening. Nope, never.

"So which house do you think you'll get into? Im obviously going to go into Slytherin. All those shoddy excuse for houses are obviously not worth my time – My father and mother and grandfather all were Slytherin too. So which house do you think you're going into? Surely not Gryffindor!" Maybe I can get some kid at Hogwarts to devote to me like _that_ women too? Surely charming snot nosed brats couldn't be hard at all. Oh, this kid's still going on.

"Ravenclaw."

"Uh! Ravenclaw? Oh well, at least it isn't one of those bloody lions. Or, merlin forbid, Huffeldorks. Totally unworthy, don't you think? I think slytherin is the coolest houses at Hogwarts – the only thing good at that place."

Hmm, Maybe that Longbottom? Or maybe that girl, what was her name? Oh, yeah! Ginny. Didn't she adore the cannon counter-part of her? Hermione wasn't bad too. Certainly smart enough to pull off her level, who says maybe she'll even end up being her rival something? So maybe the route of she-is-better-but-I-still-admire-her? Jesus, this kid is still here!

"If you're so upset about Hogwarts, why don't you go to some other school? Isn't your father powerful or something?" Just how fucking long does it take to measure two snot nosed brats? Is this woman purposely fucking up every time? And why the fuck is she pinching my arse? Blood hell, screw Voldemort – She'll be long dead by groping hands.

"Don't be daft! It's tradition to go there. I can't just not follow tradition."

"Eh, whatever."

My contemplation of hiding from the old coot's which were in fashion made me miss the massive bristle the kid gave, along with his determined face "Say, don't you think I'm cool? My father got me the newest edition of the latest broom, it's without child protection and can handle two people. So?" His eyes narrowed in triumph. No _way_ could this half-blood not be impressed with him.

"I guess." Draco Malfoy almost stumbled. What is wrong with this girl! Why couldn't she just ask him to give her a ride on his broom? Was she shy or something? Would her parent not allow her? But surely not! He was a _Malfoy_, no one couldn't like his father's wealth. "I'll talk to your parents!" he finally proclaimed.

"Orphan." But what if her little minion turned out to be a Yandere bishie or something? I was already being compared to _that_ woman. Hell, this was giving me a headache. "Goodbye." I started to make my way out, kneading my poor butt. That wicked, wicked witch. If I wasn't in the body of a baby, I probably would have already jumped her. Yum.

"Wait! If you're an orphan, then who are you here with?" this kid was still here? I couldn't remember Draco Malfoy's character to be so chatty, was this the legendary OOC-ness? I hoped not. "Hagrid. Ya know the one from Hogwarts?" I said, still trying to get away from the future baby ferret. "That Oaf! Hold on, wait! I can get someone better to take you!"

"Nah, its fine." The aristocrat's brat face was twisted, as if he couldn't understand why I would stick with Hagrid. A small, dark smirk tried to crawl into my face when he asked why I would ever want to settle with someone like that. I walked away, just about to exist when I twisted and catching his grey eyes. Sure, the kid would be a total hottie when all grown up, right now? He's just another snot nosed kid.

"He's cool. Really Cool."

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_"So at the end, I stood looking at the boon – it warmed my mind, flooded my sense."_

_"I was nothing before it; and then? I was everything. That's exactly why I lust after power – it gives you control and control is the key factor to win every game. Control is the legendry OP killing strike of every game – and this happened to be the greatest of them all."_

_"She didn't want to end up in another world, but now she was here and hell as if someone is going to take that control from her."_

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A/n: **Rant** [So guess what? middle of nowhere, I was peacefully writing this chapter when my mum tells me we have to catch a train. Six hours of travelling by car, and we miss the shitty thing. No internet too, so no updates and no answering back to replies. This was hell.

This chapter was done during a car ride and a battle with car sickness. So very sorry for typos and spelling mistakes - it was done on phone - and then there is the fact that my wisdom tooth has cursed me with its presences. That shit hurts and I want to cry (I don't want people to cut my skin, someone save me!) but its alright.

Im alright. (If alright is bleeding gum, a throbbing jaw, a missed train, battling car sickness and then having sore foot.)

Okay, Im cool now. Really sorry for the short chapter, I'll try to push it to 4k-5k so bear with me. Other than that, what do you think of this chapter? Was Draco in character?

Fact: I took the wand test and i was promptly matched up with Bellatrix Lestrange's wand. No, seriously. My amanigus (Spelled wrong on purpose) was a tiger and my patronus was a cat - which to be honest is very cliché for me. Like, seriously! What's wrong with bat? Or a hippo? Or a dinosaur? I would love to be a laser shooting dinosaur. Maybe a dolphin?

**Question**: What should be Harriet's Patronus or animal form? I think of a bat or maybe a spider. What's your thoughts?

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_There is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things. _

\- Niccolo Machiavelli


	3. Gutters and Gutturals

Chapter 2: Gutters and Gutturals

A/N: So, hell. Really, guys? Seventy-something follows in what, eight days? Five days? This is bloody amazing! Literally, I just _can't_. To be honest, currently my life is shit – our train seats weren't confirmed and im in another city in the middle of someone's living room, who is someone's someone. So this is the best thing that could've happened to me.

And im kinda stressed about my upcoming immigration to only-I-know-where, so stress is kinda high. Also I posted Harriet's rough sketch on my image manager, dunno if you can see or no.

So, let's get on with this chapter. See, now that the intro-short chapters are over, I'll start the real story, which means real chapters with real monologue. I'm all fired up!

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_Men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, for everyone can see and few can feel. Every one sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are._

\- Niccolo Machiavelli.

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_"Ironically, his next seven years were the most frustrating, jealous and anger stimulating years of his life. He pursued me more frantically than anyone else, yes he had fooled around, but couldn't help the ugly emotions seeing me fool around."_

_"He had been so captivated by my openness, my apathy, that when he discovered my masks and my web's it had been to late – like a moth attracted to the flame, he had charged into my flames bound to burned cold by my icy black flames."_

_"I had been the wolf in human skin, and had devoured the little red riding hood. I had torn him apart, tangled him in my webs of decay, the knife sharp edges digging in his bones so deep, that by the time he had noticed it was too late. "_

_"The webs had reached his bones and melded with his own – changing his to my whims. And like the naïve little sheep, he had enjoyed my warmth – even when he was being roasted."_

_"Even when he was demolished and in my system, about to be digested by the same warm flames."_

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"Girl, are you taking me for a fool!?"

Spit narrowly missed my face, the red bloated face of my walrus of an uncle in front my face – veins bulging and teeth snapping together. Disgust coursed through me -making it apparent to both of us as my disgusted grimace followed the flying, offending liquid that narrowly missed my face. How fucking unclean, literally, was this man raised in a pigsty? I won't be surprised, honestly.

"It's a school for magic. What were you expecting? Big neon sign, pointing 'Here Magical folks, trains to your exclusive _super-secret _school here'? Not that it wouldn't be expected from you, uncle."

His face was now an alarming shade of purple and maroon, he leaned in close, fingers twitching. "Remember girl, you might be off to that freak show now, but you are to live in _my_ house. Be glad, that we're outside." then stormed off, leaving me all alone on a train station, without any help. Such a fucking gentleman, so nice of him.

Sighing, I pushed up my round glasses that were about to slip down my nose. My hair was open – exposing my scar and eyes to all the world. Dressed in simple tights and a button down. This day wasn't the best, yet the excitement was bubbling inside me like a pit of active volcano. Today was the day my grubby hands and eyes would experience the proof of my second existence, I could hardly wait.

A small grin on my lips, I hustled in to the wall.

My magic roared inside of my veins – buzzing, prominent and very much _alive_. The tingling of the spell and magic brushed against my skin like the softest satin sheet, brief but prominent enough to tell me that magic was very much real and I was now a part of it. My face threatened to break due to the wide grin it was covered in.

_Holy mother fucking son of a shit_.

This was no joke – I'm in Harry potter, I'm living in Harry Potter and Hell, I am _Harry Potter_. A female version, but still Harry Potter's body nonetheless. Im going to Hogwarts and going to learn potions and spells and charms and hexes and curses and divination and _magic_, I honestly felt like my veins were filled with liquid power because, at this moment I felt as if the world just tilted.

And I was at its center.

"_Mom, mom! Look at that scar. It's Harriet Potter!"_

_"Is that? Henry, look! It's Harriet Potter!"_

_"Harriet Potter? Here!?"_

_"Look, she really does have two eye colours!"_

_"Look at her eyes, and that scar! There's no mistaking it. That _is_ Harriet Potter." _

The poorly hidden whispers of the crowd around me swarmed in, breaking me from my stupor. A slight grimace broke out on my face, now I think maybe baring my forehead to the world wasn't the best ideas. Screw that, it _was_ a bad idea. Hastily, I ripped out my hair from the clips near my ear, a thick tuff of hair free – barely covering my scar.

Hey, I don't want prominent attention, but I still want _some_ attention – it's kind of healthy for a narcissist like me. I pushed my trolley in front of the train, escaping in the crowd around me, away from the aware. I was fifteen minutes early to the station, so it wasn't as crowded. Also, I'm not very sure if I want to follow the plot not related to the battles.

Honestly, I don't think that Ron and I would be the best of the friends, because I'm pretty damned sure that I won't be a Gryffindor. Why make connections if they can't be kept alive for more than a few moments – Ron's character was pretty narrow minded, so him tolerating me wasn't very possible. Maybe.

And then there was the fact that I could be a slytherin, which absolutely _cannot_ happen. I might be a bitch with a capital B, but I still won't step into the house of Lily's murderer, other than that, Slytherin was cool. (Because if not for my thirst of knowledge there would be no other house I could stay in.)

Tugging the heavy enchanted trunk, I tried to not heave. These are the moment's I miss my boxer's body – the broad shoulders, the muscles, and the strength. I'll have to work my _ass_ off to get those back… how troublesome.

"Crawnk, Crawnk!"

A low gurgling croak rung out as a particularly harsh tug had the trunk come on the train, I dragged it to the lone compartment near the end of the train. Beady light blue eyes looked right into my hetrochromic ones. Black tuff of sharp feathers covered his Lilith body, as black as a void. Hooked beak opened again producing low gurgles, conveying his annoyance at being jostled around.

"Well, pardon me Muninn. So sorry, I jostled you while carrying a shit ton heavy trunk." The raven snorted, fluffed his feather and went back to observing his surroundings. His tail feathers rhythmically caressing the edge of my right hand as if a silent companion. He might as well be.

Apparently Canon!Hedwig wasn't what Hagrid thought I was into – which to be frank is true, bloody owls with their stupid eyes, stupid feathers and stupid beaks – so instead the giant got me a _raven_. It had to do with something about a definite 'Ravenclaw'. Even if its bird is an _eagle_ not a raven, not like I'm complaining – Muninn was a sardonic, intelligent, not-an-owl _darling_.

Because of its black plumage, croaking call and diet of carrion, the raven is often associated with loss and ill omen. Yet its symbolism is complex. As a talking bird, the raven also represents prophecy and insight. Ravens in stories often act as psychopomps, connecting the material world with the world of spirits. Also, In Greek mythology, ravens are associated with Apollo, the god of prophecy. They are said to be a symbol of bad luck, and were the god's messengers in the mortal world.

A structuralist theory that suggests the raven (like the coyote) obtained mythic status because it was a mediator animal between life and death. As a carrion bird, ravens became associated with the dead and with lost souls. In Swedish folklore, they are the ghosts of murdered people without Christian burials and, in German stories, damned souls. Honestly? I was worried about Hagrid knowing something he shouldn't. But, I'm pretty sure he doesn't know about the damned sous part, so no getting rid of our friendly neighborhood giant. For now.

Oh, and he was an Australian Raven, too. How did he get that in the middle of a magical establishment? Hell as if I know.

So me being me, channeled my inner troll and named the intelligent bird Muninn – _memory_. I wonder what would've happened if I was reborn in Avengers or something? Like a Fem!Tony Stark? Anyway. The thing was Muninn looked alarmingly intimidating – especially to Dudley – and we got together too.

I slumped down the fluffy, comfy seat - legs miles apart, head thrown back and hands between my thighs. A lazy contemplating glint shone through my eyes, I had been feeling quite sluggish, whether to snooze or groove? Hands flittered near the lock of my trunk, thinking whether or not is repacking worth another reading fest.

Sadly, I never got to make the decision, seeing that a certain_ someone_ decide to grace me with her presence.

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"What in the name _are_ you wearing?" a snobby, snarky voice called out as a figure gracefully plopped itself in my compartment. A dark glower came on my lips as hetrochromic eyes – one of which was along with a certain scar covered with thick tuffs of hair, shielding my identity from _Pansy Parkinson_.

What is with me and attracting dark characters? Do I have like, a selectively visible stamp on myself claiming 'Are you to be a Dark lord's Future servant? Bug this girl here for brownie points for credits!" Or not. Whatever.

"Clothes." I grunted and closed my eyes, hands preoccupying themselves with petting Muninn's feathers. "What is that repulsive thing!?" a high shriek tore through the air, snapping me out from my blank thought phase, ears started with the soprano of the voice. "It a raven." I gritted out, barely keeping myself from snarling.

"Raven? Well the bloody thing looks like an ugly crow. And those _eyes_, Uggh…" a pretty little grimace came over her face, pretty little face that might just get broken if she doesn't shut the fuck up. "It's a raven, not a _crow_." A huff left her lips as she peered down at me from her eyes, as if suddenly realizing something important. Her pretty brown eyes scrutinized me thoroughly, a sudden widening of eyes and a disgusted look on her face.

Honestly, if she was any older I would've punched her in the titts. And then, maybe, ravish her against the compartment door. Meh, damn this child-body. Her mouth opened to spew poison.

"What are you?" An eyebrow twitched under the thick tuffs of hair. "Human." I would definitely deny snarling at her, as her face changed into a persona of annoyance. "Don't be daft! I meant your blood. I am a Pureblood, what are you?" In and out, musntbreakthenoseofthisbrat, huuuuuff. Im cool, Im calm and Im positively _not _murderous.

"Half blood." Her upturned nose, turned even more upwards with a slight grimace on her pretty annoyingly cute face. And not in a good way, too. I tuned out her rant about how it was barely acceptable, hand back at Muninn's feathery head – he too looked as if he would bite her lips off. "Pansy! There you are. We've been looking all over for you." An aristocratic voice rang out as yet _another_ brat gracefully perched next to the dark skinned annoyance of a future-bombshell.

She daintily brushed her wispy, honeyed locks behind looked into my visible green eye. "And you are?" the question was questioned politely enough, but the faint disdain and apprehension for the 'muggle' clothing wasn't lost. "Harry." I continued my trend of one worded answers, eyes narrowed and a faint snarl visibly aimed at her dainty hand.

Was it this shitty back at my school? Or was it just like this in the old day? Maybe I should shake her hand and then wipe my own? Sadly, I was once again cut off as Pansy started to reassure that 'Even if I didn't look like it, I was okay to stay with, for now.' Wow, fuck you too pansy, fuck you too.

Jesus, I haven't even hit _puberty_ now, what the fuck will happen later on? I seriously don't wanna have AID's because of my very smooth drive, or that shit. Shit, Mind? Get out of the gutter, _thank you_. "There you lot are! I swear to _merlin_ this place is infested with idiots." Oh no… oh _nooooooo_.

Nope, nah-nah, nuh-uh. Why? Why god, why? Merlin, why? Satan? Satan take the wheel! This shit just cannot be happening to me. How the hell is this happening? I was kidding about the damned sing, but maybe I should cover myself or something. Wait, once again, why Jesus? WHY?

I cringed, and curled into myself, praying not to be noticed by this brat. The brat and his two goon of brats yet _again_ made their way into _my_ compartment, Bratty brat sitting like a mini king between his two, now giggling and shrieking, wenches and his goons by my side – it was kind of like hierarchy. The lowly on one side and the monarch's on another. Normally I would puff out my feathers to establish my dominance, but I was currently trying to hide, so nope.

"We were waiting for you, Drake! I found this compartment then, although it was already taken by this Half-Blood." Was it just me, or did she suddenly a bit bitchier? This girl wasn't even a freaking teen, what the hell is she doing displaying her 'supposedly' dominance? Man, this was going to be shit. Oh wait, oh shit, he's looking at me. No, no don't look at me! Dammit turn the hell around!

No shit prevail.

"A Half-Blood? Well who are you?"

Wait, play it cool. I didn't tell him my name before, so if I pretend to be shy, then _maybe _this might work. "Harry." I muttered, voice a pitch higher. Immediately I felt the two girl's eye's narrow on my frame, cogs of mind turning. _Oh shit, this going even worse isn't it!?_ Welp. Playing shy was _not_ going to help me here, I decided. Better get this shit over with.

I suddenly loosened from my little ball, legs parting and hands loose between thighs, face cool and eyes lax – uncaring and apathetic as they were before _this brat_ came in. Automatically my mind supplied me with background music, which was my default response to nervousness or anxiety or annoyance, basically a move to make me calm.

_Told you not to worry_

_But maybe that's a lie_

_Honey, what's your hurry?_

_Won't you stay inside?_

_Remember not to get too close to stars_

_They're never gonna give you love like ours_

Oh that's kinda ironic, thank you brain, doing a wonderful job out here. It was as if watching glass falling down in slow mo. He didn't really recognize me, but then his eyes sharply widened and a dumbfounded expression found way on his face. "It's _you_!" Draco Lucius Malfoy screamed, his fingers pointing at my non-existing chest. I slowly arched an eyebrow – scrutinizing him. "Who are _you_?" I snarked, voice drenched and finally breaking the one worded answers trend.

"It's me, Draco!" Yeah, and can you like, please not? This sounds like a cliché romance-fluff book, and I'm cringing. "Who's Draco?" The perplexion in my voice was on _point _and so was the girl's mean bitch face. Man, I should fund in some of them, just in case I fail magic and become a hobo. Which, is practically, _never_ happening. "Draco? Remember? Draco Malfoy? We met in Madam Malkin's and you told me you're going in Ravenclaw! It's me, the broom guy!"

_So, where did you go?_

_I should know, but it's cold_

_And I don't wanna be lonely_

_So tell me you'll come home_

_Even if it's just a lie_

I could almost laugh at the face he was making – seriously, why was Draco so adamant on my acknowledgement? I was no fool, I knew back in the boutique that he was trying hard to capture my attention, and I was purposely not paying him attention, so why? Maybe… Maybe a puppy crush? Or the typical first-girl-to-not-give-me-attention?

I squinted my eyes and then nodded. "Nah, don't remember you. Are you sure I'm the right person?" I asked nonchalantly, stroking Muninn's agitated head with soft strokes of bony fingers. "Drake, do you know this… Half-blood?" Daphne Greengrass asked, breaking the stony silence. "We meet in a boutique – she's okay." Yeah, I'm okay – definitely okay _without_ you having to say.

"Hey, how does the trunks go to our Dom's?" I asked, before Pansy could say anything. Goyle shifted and Crabbe grunted. "Of course you wouldn't know, you're a _half blood_. The trunks are taken by magic – they simply arrive." Pansy's snobby voice answered as my eyes glinted maliciously. "So what happens if someone tries to open another person's trunk _in_ the train without permission?"

"Isn't it obvious? They can't open another's trunk or belongings without permission." Daphne beated Pansy to this one as they both batted their eyelashes at Draco. Draco, who had tried to answer my questions but was beaten by the girls, looked irritated and shot a look at his two goons. What the _hell_ is this brat up to? Is he gonna beat me up or something? Not cool. _Not_ _cool_.

_Nah, this was something deeper. _

_The world's a little blurry_

_Or maybe it's my eyes_

_The friends I've had to bury_

_They keep me up at night_

_Said I couldn't love someone_

_'Cause I might break_

_If you're gonna die, not by mistake_

The two hulking boy's got up grunting, Goyle wiping the chocolate from his lips. Oh no, is this what I think it is? I hope not. Draco, that shit, got up from his seat, where now sat his goon's along with the girls – all barley managing to sit on the bench. The boy _swaggered_ next to me, his knees bumping into mine. This little shit, now those bratesses are looking at me with murder in their eyes.

How fucking quaint.

"So, do you still wanna go to Ravenclaw? I'm pretty sure you can make it to Slytherin." Um, hello? How the _fuck_ would you know that? "It's a shame were not allowed to bring brooms but you can ride mine next year, what do you say?"

Shit, mind! Get _out_ of the damned gutter, the boy's not even a _boy yet!_ What the fuck is up with me? Im disgusting! I need to get the hell away from here, and Muninn, the ever so intelligent one, glared at me with his blue eyes, as if saying 'Don't you dare, human.' I looked back at him. Sorry friend, but I just _can't_. Narrowly escaping his beak, I jumped onto my feet, patting my knees and tugging out my uniform sack.

"I'll be back in a moment."

Scurrying off, I tuned out Draco's voice and rushed into the nearby bathrooms. I changed my clothes, a calculating face prominent, no doubt. So it wasn't just my over-paranoid self, Malfoy _was_ being OOC. Draco Malfoy was a person who does things that leads to his gain, so why would he do that? It had to be OOC… unless it isn't.

But I hadn't revealed my identity, so what could he gain from me? What would a girl… hmm. I wonder, I wonder. Shaking my head, I cleared my head for now. With a resolved shake of my head, I took ahold of my clips, pinning the thick tuffs away from my face. My eyes and scar stood prominent against my pale skin along with the suddenly more noticeable freckles.

Time to _blow_ shit up.

I lazily made my way back, paying no mind to the barely audible background music in my mind. I was in control, and it's time to show the bigger dick and display the true owner of dominance – the Alpha's in the town, bitches. I threw the compartment door pen, dropping down and stuffing my sack in the trunk, dodging Muninn's beak – clothes changed into the usual uniform – except the loose collar, unbuttoned first buttons and low tie. Oh, and the slick-backed ponytail along with low riding glasses.

"You… You're Harriet Potter!" Draco's voice cut off my inner monologue. I gave him an oppressing glance, "Huh. So you _do_ know me." No need to make it easy for him to get whatever he wants, now that I'm sure he's not going OOC. "_You_ are Harriet Potter? But didn't you say that you were Harry? You lied to me!" Daphne's red face looked accusingly at me.

What is this, a Spanish opera?

"I _am_ Harry. Harriet James belladonna Lilly Potter – or just Harry for short. Im okay with James as well." I muttered, sealing my identity as the offending scar around my head pulsed slightly. Pansy preened, a smug grin on her lips, "See? I knew that she was someone important! Didn't I Harry?" Oh so I'm Harry now? Good Pansy, good. Not that I could say something – I was just like her, maybe even worse.

Pssh, details. Anyway, time for non-slytherin minion hunting!

I got up, brushing off malfoy's hands from mine's. "Hey! Where you going, Harriet? Come on! I have to tell you all about my brooms and my father's mansion and my gifts! We didn't get time to talk earlier, too." Draco's whine echoed in my ear – so he wants me to be familiar with him, now even more so – "Yeah, and I have to tell you about my _personal_ make-up too! Daphne, tell her!" Pansy claimed – suddenly eager too.

"Well, the Greengrass mansion does have a wonderful pool and fountain." She chimed suddenly cool and calm, Goyle the poor dear, offered me his chocolate as Crabbe grunted at me. Nah, still not worth having my ear's talked off.

"Maybe later. I heard the older students talking about some interesting spells." Was my half-assed response But it was true – I _had_ heard Cedric Diggory and some Ravenclaw guy talking about a spell on something vaguely related to helping point out mistakes in potions. Twisting and turning, I eavesdropped along, and stopped in front of the cabinet full of hufflepuffs and some ravenclaws.

Time to shine, and I'm a godamned supernova.

"People here can actually mistake a bat liver for a rat liver? So amazing." I snarked leaning against the door. All eyes turned to my form, eyes scanning my face and the widening upon looking in my eyes. "You're Harry Potter!" Gasped out the fifteen year old Penelope Clearwater, eyes shrewdly glinting. "Wow. I'm sensing a trend here. Blubbery?" I asked popping out a bag of fresh blueberries from my robes.

"Yeah, you're kind of popular here. I'm Cedric Diggory, by the way."

The fourteen year old Cedric Diggory smiled a boyish smile at me, myself returning a crooked smirk. "So is it true? Can you actually make a potion to stop death?" I asked, voice full of genuine curiosity. The older Ravenclaw girl brightened, exchanging glance with the two male ravenclaws – one fifth year like her and another fourth year.

"Yes, it's a potion. However it is debatable on the topic of arthimatic equations about the expectancy of the potion itself – a hyper potion, so to speak." Mused the older, ginger haired male Ravenclaw. "I'm Matthew Jorden." He added, later "That's Penelope Clearwater and this is Carl Johnson."

"Nice to meet 'cha. Im Harriet Potter, but just call me Harry. Or James – I don't mind either." The other Hufflepuffs then snapped out of their daze and soon enough I was seated between the ravenclaws, asking about anything and everything. "Whoa." A Hufflepuff girl named Sasha Brays muttered, "Did you really read all of this in the previous week? Or were you sneaking books from Wizarding world?" she teased, a bit baffled out of her brunette head seeing how a first year – not even sorted, could question much more than her – a fourth year.

"It's quite interesting, actually. I just couldn't stop myself from buying more books – the pull was too strong." I teased back, as the ravenclaws chuckled. "Well, at least we know which house she's going to be in." mused Matthew as Carl high-fived me. "Oi! She could be a Hufflepuff." Vivian Ralladry, another Hufflepuff fourth year said, a fake look of anger on his pale face.

"Somehow, I find that a bit difficult to imagine. Poor Connor here, can barely manage his potion's essay." Carl cooed at the sandy blonde Hufflepuff, who in return chucked a piece of chocolate frog at him. "Hey, Connor's smart!" Cedric argued, but the weak smile on his face told us that a laugh threatened to come out. "Yeah, right." Penelope muttered.

"At least, I don't shank _Percy weasely_ in the broom closet." Connor McCain sneered a teasing glint in his brown eyes. Carl gasped, white-blonde eyebrows raised high on his tanned face. "Well…" I cut in before anyone could say anything, "Now you can say that you guys came out the closet. Congrats, dude." Laughter rang among the cabin, Penelope covering her pale face, mortified."You, little shit." Matthew wheezed, "Yeah, that one's definitely a raven, guys." Cedric breathed out – face tinged red.

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"Hey, I'm going to take her to the other guys, we'll be back in a bit." Carl said, pulling me up, as we stumbled out of the door, he was adamant on me meeting the rest of 'My going to be house'. His older frame towered over my bony one. "So, what are you? Im apparently a Half-blood." I started a casual talk as we went to god knows where.

"Oh me? I'm a Half-blood too. Mum's a witch, dad's a squib." I nodded, rubbing my hands together. "Dad's from Mexico but then he shifted here with mum after he had me." He mused out loud as I nodded again. Right, small talk. I can do this.

"So what's your favorite subject? I'm in _love_ with charms and DADA. I'm also interested in potions and Herbology. I also like Transfiguration, Astronomy and History or origins of magic." There was a quite pause and Carl shook his head as he snorted loudly, "Yeah," he finally said, "You're a Ravenclaw, alright." He pushed his bangs back, head shaking at me.

"Soooo fave sub?"

"I'm having an affair with Charms behind Transfiguration's back, so sush, okay?" He whispered mockingly, as if scared to be overheard. I nodded, face a mask of seriousness. "My lips are sewed shut tighter than Loki's." Oh, my poor baby, shit I wished I died _after_ the release of Avengers: End game. If they killed my baby, I'm going to fucking_ kill_ those writers. Fuck another world or not.

"A fan of Norse mythology?"

"A fan of Norse Mythology."

His grin brightened as we both turned, about to enter the lair of ravenclaws. "They're gonna love you, trust me." He soothed me, voice confident in his words, and honestly? I didn't doubt him. I ruffled my skirt, loosened my loose tie and pushed up my glasses, a small smirk on my lips as I leaned on the door, "Really? I'm pretty sure I read that in the fifth book of _History of the Light magick_, but yeah, that equation isn't right. How about putting a two?"

My trust was place in the right account as I was reluctantly parted away from the reluctantly letting me leave group of elder Ravenclaws – second years, third years and fourth years. Apparently, there were hardly newcomers who asked logical, mind stimulating questions like me. Their words, not mine. We parted hesitantly, but every one of them was sure they'll see me later.

I pretty sure I will.

I scuttled out of the train, making my way towards the huddle of first years, eyes bright with barley contained excitement. _Holy shit, I'm here, I'm here, and I'm here. Im about to see the real fucking Hogwarts, Omg, holy crap, ahhhhhh!_ I barley contained my squeal, as other first years barley contained their squeal upon seeing my scar and eyes.

Hogwarts, I hope your body's ready, because ready or not here, I come. "'Arry! Come 'ere my girl. Tat right, sit here would ya? We almost went ahead without you!" Hagrid, God bless his soul, had made me sit in a little boat – with none other than Miss. Hermione Ganger and Misturs. Neville Longbottom themselves.

"Hey, I love your hair." I commented airily, hand marveling the black liquid in my hands as eyes hungrily soaked in the magic around _the _black lake. Rain drizzled all around up, making my curly hair even wilder. "Oh, Thanks!" The ginger smiled shyly, her face light with a startled blush. "I've read all about you, you are in the History of Magic – Harriet James Belladonna Lilly Potter. You vanished the dark lord when you were a baby and then lived your life with the muggle. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way and this is Neville, did you happen to see a frog on the train?"

"Hey, Neville. I didn't see any frog, but lemme guess? You lost your frog?" Neville Longbottom stammered, and then hesitantly nodded his chubby, totally future hottie face. "Well, don't worry your head off. The student's belongings – books or pets are automatically charmed to meet you in your designated rooms after sorting. Your pet can't really go anywhere but Hogwarts."

I assured him and the hope on his face was really a sight, "Really?" he breathed out, voice coated with hope. "Yep." I answered giving his a small smile, definitely not sadistic at his little blush. Jesus, these kids are so cute. "Is that so? The spells work on inanimate and animate objects?" Hermione suddenly cut in, her eyes wide and voice shrill.

"Oh-Oh! I-uh, I me-meant." She stammered, as if just realizing the strength behind her voice as nearby kids turned around to gawk at her. "Yeah, actually. In Arithmancy, we don't have that yet, we literally have numbers and study their magical properties." I shared, loving the war the lust for knowledge clouded her eyes. "I heard of that too." Neville chimed in, shoulders not a tense.

"Granger and Neville, right?" they nodded their head, "I have a feeling that we'll get along just fine. Blueberry?" I offered my bag of sweet berries to them, just like the snake had offered the apple to Eve.

Mission: Minions – commence.

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Draco Malfoy was the crème la crème of the wizarding society – his family was a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and his father was powerful. Also, he bought Draco whatever he wanted, even if his mother would say no. So it wasn't a surprise to him when he was called in before his trip to the Diagon Alley. Usually Dobby – his father's stupid elf – would do it, but today was _special_.

"Be wise, son." He remembers his father's stern voice as his mother nodded resolutely. "You are to be the heir to the Malfoy's and you _will_ need a powerful wife by your side. Do not waste your time and have a clear eye – fool around as it is your youth, but be firm for one woman of your choice." It was true – he was to be the Head one day, and by his side had to be lady, preferably.

Draco didn't really want to marry just _any_ powerful girl. He was the best, so his wife also had to be the best – it didn't matter to him if his wife wouldn't give him any children – even at this young age, he doesn't like the idea of sharing with anyone – there were other ways to get a heir, magical ways. No, he was adamant – his wife had to be the best for _him_, even if she didn't want kids.

His choice at first had been obvious – Harriet Potter. The girl who lived. The baby who vanquished _the_ dark lord. She had to be _his_, he would make sure of that, and there would be competition, but really? How many other boys had a white peacock? A nimbus? A lot of money and the position of family head under his name? Hardly, he concluded. There would be challenges, but it'll be fine.

He'll deal with them.

There was also the rave about her looks – curly black hair, the scar – _the scar!_ – And of course her two coloured eyes. One rumored to be Green and another smoky blue. Those were slytherin colours, and really, Draco was already a bit in the fancy. If he ended up with even a _pinch_ of his father's looks he'll be good-looking enough to be on his wife's level.

If he wooed her that is.

He brushed off the insecure feelings, (On the contrary to many buffoons, Draco wasn't an idiot. He knew they swarmed him only for his reputation as an heir – that's how slytherin worked. Even pansy only liked him for his reputation. However, he wasn't either – he used the others just as much as they used him, maybe even more.

No one liked to say no to him if he gave them some credits – fools, didn't they know that ultimately, he would have more profit? But still, sometimes he did want something genuine. He was pretty sure if Harriet was a boy, he would have been jealous of him.) And went to the Diagon alley, his eyes roaming – for his next lavishes and options for potential wife's.

Basically he searched for Harriet Potter.

However, he soon saw someone even more captivating. Even if a bit bony, and rather petite, the girl's magic thrummed in the air – cracking and just barely concealed. His own magic shivered, in wonder. His eyes narrowed upon her frame – she was cute enough, he supposed. Still, Harriet would be a better option, his mind had told him.

He then saw her everywhere he went – the wand makers, (she took a rather long time.) the book house (Bloody hell! Was this girl trying to drown herself in books?) And pretty much everywhere. By the end of his trip, as he stood in the Malkin's boutique, he was a bit captivated. Still, he was adamant on Harriet.

Then, they talked, and Draco Lucius Malfoy had fallen in a fancy. His mind was a bit reluctant to let go of Harriet as the candidate, but the moment she said that that _oaf_ was cool, Draco had been sure. He would make this girl admit that _he_ is cool, and then make her devote to him. He had found his new lavish and his candidate, much to his father's amusement, as his eyes glinted with something unknown as he gazed at the girl he chose.

She had gotten away for now, but in the end she would still be there. After all, how hard could it be?

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_"Ironically, my next seven years were the most frustrating, jealous and anger stimulating years of my life. I pursued her more frantically than anyone else, yes I fooled around, but couldn't help the ugly emotions seeing_ her_ fool around."_

_"I had been so captivated by her openness, her apathy, that when I discovered her masks and her web's it had been to late – like a moth attracted to the flame, I had charged into her flames bound to burned cold by her icy black flames."_

_"She had been the wolf in human skin, and had she devoured the little red riding hood. She had torn me apart, tangled me in her webs of decay, the knife sharp edges digging in my bones so deep, that by the time I had noticed it was too late." _

_"The webs had reached my bones and melded with my own – changing me to her whims. And like the naïve little sheep, I had enjoyed her warmth – even when I was being roasted."_

_"Even when I was demolished and in her system, about to be digested by the same warm flames."_

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A/N: So, how's that for a change? The characters deepen and some basic mind train of some characters are revealed, we've seen Draco's reason behind his obsession with Harriet's approval and Harriet's mind thought process. Thank you for the wonderful reviews to all, and thank you for being patient with me.

Also, not even on the fifth chapter and already thinking of possible sequels. Do you guys want another story of the same OC but in the past, like during Tom Riddle's time? Then do check out my other stories.

Okay, so let's start a **Poll** for Harriet's Animagus and Patronus. Choices (My choices) for Animagus: Vulture, Bat, Spider, Hyena, Komodo dragon, Tasmanian devil and Grizzly bears. Choices (My choices) for Patronus: Box Jellyfish, Eagle, Hyena and saltwater crocodile.

**Question:** Which house should Hermione, Harriet and Neville be in? Also, do you like blueberries?

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_The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him._

\- Niccolo Machiavelli.


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